


An Anarchist Guide to Love

by RomanDiget



Series: More Shall be Revealed [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Scarlet Witch (Comic), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: M/M, winterspider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-04-23 21:13:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19159105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomanDiget/pseuds/RomanDiget
Summary: It starts on the way to Tony's funeral. Peter takes offense that Cap went off to have his happy ending and left his 'best friend' in the clutches of Hydra. The world does not restart where it left off. Previouslly inappropriate feelings are acceptable now.





	1. Too Big to Swallow

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers alert for Endgame. mostly cannon through endgame with a alternate AU concerning the 'Snapped' slash 'victims of Thanos' Snap, and the origins of Hydra. Minor character death/A bit of sappy romance between Peter and James Barns and the crazyness that is their life as Avengers. Steve Rogers has 'issues' (not Cap friendly). Survivors guilt, Internalized homophobia, Minor pinning, some fluff, off-screen violence. Haven't written slash-fic in years so be gentle if I neglected to properly tag and flag. Spidey senses in this AU include sensing auras and energy fields of various kinds. I was intending a smut fest because Sebastion Stan, woof! But for some reason the smut wouldn't flow :( Cross over between marvel movies and marvel comics.

Peter checked that his tie was on straight, and jacket’s shoulders were level. The cuff of his trousers was a decent length and there was nothing that suggested this was not a custom-made suit. Mr. Stark had never personally cared if his clothes were off-rack or designer creations, but he had a fine appreciation of how those things influenced what people thought. Stark Industries had sent the suit over yesterday still warm from pressing. With Aunt May’s door shut, it was hard to make out the exact color in the dim hallway, but that hardly mattered. 

Five years is a long time not to see your own reflection. It was mostly as he remembered, a little taller, a little leaner. There were thick callous on his hands and feet where he was used to having friction burns. The manbun was an interesting change it made him look older, maybe a bit sinister. He was still considering a haircut, but right now a little bit of solidarity where it was deserved was more important. 

His new phone alerted him that his ride had arrived, without backward a glance Peter left the apartment. 

The graveside service was on the Mansion grounds. Howard and Maria were buried here, as were Maria’s parents. There had been a public memorial yesterday for the dignitaries and brown-noses. Peter hadn’t gone, even MS. Potts had stayed the bare minimum of time. The Press had been surprisingly gracious. After all, five days ago 50% of the world’s population had been missing and presumed dead. To have the lost sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters returned at the snap of a finger had made an impression, at least temporarily. 

The service was modest and private, their collective loss too painful to tolerate observers or questions. With so few of the Avengers on their feet, Peter was pressed into service as a pall bearer a duty he wouldn’t shirk, but once the casket was lowered, he faded back to the margins. He’d never been good in crowds and post spider bite, even less so. If he had cried himself to sleep every night for the past week that was no one’s business. They were all suffering and if he couldn’t offer comfort to the grieving, at very least he wasn’t going to be a distraction. 

This was his tribe; these men and women, united by commitment to the greater good. It was horrible, and it was amazing. Spider senses can be a bitch though. Even in a group as small as twenty people, without his suit’s buffers the sensory input verged on overwhelming. MS. Potts was pretty much the center of attention. Her participation and the ferocity in the last battle had surprised many, including Peter. Mr. Stark said “she was an absolute beast in the boardroom” so maybe it made sense that she had abandoned business attire for flying armor and gone to war beside her husband. 

Today she wore simple black her waist length hair loose over a jacket, long strong legs elegant in tailored trousers. With Rhodes and Hogan flanking her progress, she was every inch the warrior queen. The fires of her grief carefully banked while she comforted those mourning her husband. 

Aunt May always said “funerals are for those left behind”. He wasn’t sure how that could be true when all he wanted to do was wail to the heavens and could not because it would upset other people. Other people -- other people were desolated by this same lose and maybe hanging on to their composure by threads as thin as his. Harley for instance standing well back from the group hovering in the shadows of the rustic chapel. Or Captain Rogers who was no where to be seen though Peter knew he was here with the same Spidey sense that identified Sargent Barns pacing among the cedars or Dr. Banner where he stood by the graveside. 

It was the schism between Rogers and Barns that had been the final lever in Peter’s decision to attend. An Iron Man fanboy through and through, Peter hadn’t thought twice about siding with Mr. Stark in Brussels. However, watching the way those two were together had softened his opinion, and it nearly broke his gay-boy heart when Rogers came back to the present day old and withered, saying he had stayed in the past to be with his one-true-love. 

After all of Rogers' efforts to free Barns, first from Hydra, then the U. S. military, to just abandon him with such a callous dismissal was every kind of wrong. So wrong, but what did Peter think he was going to do about it.

Captain Rogers appeared in the chapel doorway looking like a wraith in some midnight thriller. He had been Mr. Stark’s friend once; maybe the haggard features reflected regrets and amends that could never be made. The brisk pace to meet the new widow indicated some urgency and Peter steeled himself for a new emergency or catastrophic revelation. 

“Ms. Potts, can I have a word with you?” 

Potts seemed to brace herself, “absolutely. Is there something you need Captain Rogers?” 

“Not me, I got my second chance. Bucky though, he’s alone again and . . .” 

Barns’ paused his pacing. Whether he could hear Cap clearly, Peter didn’t know enough about the super-soldier’s enhanced senses, to guess.

“And without you he may fall apart” she finished Roger’s sentence.

“Something like that.” Rogers faced her squarely, head up and shoulders back. Peter had seen it before when the Cap thought he was doing the right thing. 

“Cheeky bugger.” Hogan mutter, and Peter couldn’t agree more. 

“Captain, a lot has happened” Ms. Potts said calmly. “And we are all struggling, but it’s my husband we buried today” she said with a catch in her voice. “So kindly clean up your own mess.” 

She stepped into Rogers space as if he wasn't there. Rhodes and Hogan closed in like they were going to physically remove the Captain from her path, but Rogers hung his head and stepped aside. 

Her trajectory went right past Peter, and he didn’t have a clue what to say but she passed him without a glance. Hogan and Rhodes were behind her and Peter stepped aside to keep from being trampled on. 

Harley had faded back into the shadows. The remaining people were mostly employees of Stark Industries and former Shield agents. Captain Rogers hadn’t moved, though he seemed to be observing the crowd. Sargent Barns stood in the sunlight and was watching Rogers. It took a moment before Peter clocked the captain’s line of sight was like the needle of a compass, it’s orientation always where his friend was not. 

“Oh hell no. Hell the fuck no!” Peter growled. Ever since Rogers had passed his shield on to Sam, he had wondered how Rogers was going to make amends to his partner. If this was it Peter wasn’t onboard. 

Aunt May’s adage about funerals, comforting the survivors came to mind and Peter was beside the Winter Soldier in a second. “Sargent Barns, can you give me a ride back to Brooklyn?”

“Yeah, but I thought you would be riding in the Limousine?” 

Glancing back to where Hogan and Rhodes were disappearing into the landscaping. “I think that ship may have sailed.” 

“You don’t want to ride with Cap?” Peter shook his head. 

“Aunt May said if you can’t say anything nice, come sit with me.” Barn’s tight look of worry lifted in a strained smile. 

“Then, lets blow this pop-stand.” 

Sargent Barn’s rental was a sedate gray SUV that wouldn’t be out of place at any soccer field or supermarket in the country. Dressed in funeral black no one would guess the driver was an almost mythical assassin. 

Harley was still lurking. Since they had ridden together in the limo and the teenager hadn’t said three words to Peter, he wasn’t feeling any special kinship.

“Who’s that kid?” Barns asked. 

“Harley Keener, he's another protege.” 

“Protege?” 

“Yeah, there’s a story but it doesn’t have anything to do with us.” Barns frowned but let that stand.

Peter had seen video footage of the chase through Brussels and made sure to fasten his seatbelts securely, but Barns negotiated the parking lot at an almost grandmotherly pace. The super soldier met Peter’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “The primary objective of any spy is to be unnoticed.” 

The Stark Mansion was in Connecticut and bordered by a State park on on side and on the remaining three by other estates, so it was most of an hour before they made it to the turnpike toward Brooklyn. It had been an awful week and Peter didn’t think Barns needed to be babbled at. 

“What did Steve say to MS. Potts that pissed her off so bad?” Barns asked. 

Okay, maybe he was wrong. “You didn’t hear? I mean your enhanced and I don’t know where your limits are.” 

“Ditto” Barnes said, “but Steve knows how to pitch his voice below the threshold of my hearing.” 

“But you could hear Ms. Potts?” 

“Yes.” Barns gave Peter a speculative look “she’s not angry with you?” 

“Not specifically.” Peter knew not to take the incident personally “but I wouldn’t want to tempt fate at the moment.” 

“So, what did Steve say?” 

They were getting into deep waters now. “He’s worried about you.” 

Barns nodded. “Anything specific?” 

“Just that you’re alone again.” 

“Stupid punk!” Barns’ aura crackled with anger, startling Peter. The super-soldier noticed younger man flinch “not you Peter.” Putting his eyes back on the traffic “I keep forgetting you’re not a normal kid.” 

“Sargent Barns, I’m not a kid at all.” The condescending amusement on the hero's face tipped Peter into an argument he had already rehearsed. “It’s been five years. Do I look the same as in Wakanda? Do you? I’m 20 years old and that’s not some trick of the calendar.” Peter thought about the other thing and tried to keep his heart rate and breathing from unmasking his real feelings. 

“Okay” Barns said. “There maybe something to that. Gods know the powers that be are beside themselves trying to sort it out. But you’re still a kid even if you aren’t still jailbait.” There was a warmth in Barns’ voice that Peter had never heard before, and something about his aura that made Peter’s body tingle. “Steve is going to shit a brick.” 

“Yeah, well he should have thought about that before.” 

“You seem to be taking his defection very personally.” 

Peter knew he was going to have to explain this properly. “He was Captain America, everyone looked up to him including Mr. Stark.” The memory of Tony’s broken body being returned to New York from Siberia still made Peter nauseous. “But Steve turned his back on all of that to rescue you. Not that you didn’t deserve rescuing” Peter added. “But then he abandoned you to go back in time and have the ‘love of his life’. Now he wants to organize everybody, so he doesn’t feel guilty. That’s not okay!” 

“Wow” Barns said. Those are a lot of feelings. Would it make you feel better to learn he was never my lover?” 

“What?” 

“We weren’t lovers. I know people thought so before, and more think so now but it wasn’t true.” 

“But the way he practically spit in the eye of every homophobe that crawled out of the woodwork . . .” 

“That was Steve defending his best friend” Barns said with a roughness in his voice, “and for the record, Steve was very proud of making things better for queer people all around.” 

“But you loved him.” 

“Like he hung the moon and the stars.” 

“He didn’t love you back” Peter felt crushed. At the same-time he felt like he could fly. “How did he keep his hands off of you?”. 

“He managed to keep his hands off of you.” Peter blinked, Barns’ voice was suggestive, and he reached around to rest his hand on the nape of Peter’s neck. 

Peter caught his breath, and then needed to verify. “But you want to touch me?” 

“Oh yes – I want to touch you.” His fingers began to wrestle with the elastic tie holding Peter’s hair in place. “I have a question though.” 

Peter’s brain fizzed incoherently for a few seconds before remembering they were having a conversation “What, what do you want to know?” 

“How is all that hair going to fit under your cowl?” 

“You don’t like it?” 

“I like it fine, but it might kill the secret identity.” 

“I’m not sure that secret is still a secret, or if I need to keep it. I signed the accords after Brussels and I am not a minor anymore.” 

“What about college? You had a scholarship I think.” 

“Mr. Stark offered one.” The loss of the man who had so utterly changed his future returned like a punch in the gut. “I don’t know. It doesn’t seem right to ask.” 

“I get it, but you will have to ask. Stark wouldn’t want you to ruin your future” he withdrew the hand with a lingering feather light touch, but Peter turned and quickly caught it back, bringing it to his lips. Barns shivered. Spidey senses registered the quickening pulse and a change in the harmonics of the energy field around his body. 

“Shouldn’t I take you to dinner first?” 

“Start treating me like a girl and you won’t survive the night.” 

“Not hungry?” Barns quick leer made Peter’s heart jump. 

“I could murder a corndog” he said around the lump in his throat.


	2. Limerance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James Buchanan Barns has been a trade unionist, soldier, experimental subject at the mercy of sadist, a tool of terror, a lost love, a despised murderer, the object of pity, the object of heartbreak, and a hero of Earth. Who does he want to be, and will the world give him a choice?

The usual night sounds had subsided in favor of diesel engines, grinding gears, and the soft squeal of airbrakes. Barns rarely slept deeply enough to dream, this morning had been an exception; images of Peter smiling and Peter laughing, followed Barns’ waking into the gray light of morning. For a wonder his bedroll was dry despite last night’s rain. A small miracle since the warehouse had more open sky than roof. 

He rolled the thin mattress and blanket into a tight roll and stuffed them into a plastic before wedging the bundle between two cross braces holding up the remnants of a catwalk. They used to manufacture cars here, later it was the landing craft used to storm Normandy and Okinawa. The last time he had been through Bayonne it had been self-storage company, and Barns had skulked in the warren of dimly lit passages for over a month waiting for the hunters to pick-up the false trail in Europe. Unfortunately, the shattered wreck Sandy had left behind would never again be secure refuge, but that was no reason to get sloppy. 

He had places to be, Barns shucked the track suit and boxers he had slept in, pulling the products of yesterday’s plunder from a rucksack. One of those new jock-straps all the girls tittered over, Peter would enjoy it, even if they didn’t make it past second-base tonight. Black jeans, and a purple button down, because he was going into the City and didn’t want to stand out. Combat boots were always practical and fortunately fell within current fashion. His hair he bound in a topknot and covered with a wide brimmed felt hat. The manbun had looked good on Peter yesterday, and Steve’s abdication as Captain America made his opinions regarding manly fashion moot. 

Public transit was less conspicuous than stealing a car as well as reducing the chance of running afoul of an off-duty cop moonlighting at a too booth. At this hour the ridership on was limited to sleepy commuters trying to get into the City before the crowds turned into the maddening hoards. The subway let Barns off at W 116th and a brisk walk took him to 122nd street. The battle of New York had devastated Harlem’s commercial district and the neighborhood had been in steady decay ever since. 

Barns noted a change in atmosphere since his last trip. Local shops were already open, and a number of empty storefronts were no longer boarded-up. One mostly empty block looked like it was being developed into a community garden. The corner drug store seemed a bit busy for a covert operation, but it wasn’t his dog and pony show. 

Walking through the double glass doors he noticed the local girls pouring over the make-up counter and peppering the clerk with shrill questions, while an elderly couple were being advised by a pharmacist in the rear corner. A middle-aged woman with no memorable qualities exited the deli counter when he walked in. with a quick nod she led Barns to a curtained alcove in the back of the store. She left him there and went back to the front, as he parted the curtain a man roughly his height and build grabbed a package wrapped in deli paper from the counter and exited a side door. 

Behind the curtain was a broom closet, with a ladder built into one wall. Barns climbed the ladder, pushed open the trapdoor at the top and emerged onto the roof. Scattered in neat blocks on the tar and gravel were waist high wooden boxes planters. All of which were shaded from the morning sun by uptown’s skyscrapers. In the deepest of those shadows, movement stirred.

“Subtle enough” a gravelly voice queried. Enhanced was an understatement, the Hydra serum modified scent, hearing, and vision, beyond Erskin’s original formula. Barns had no trouble detecting Fury tense as a leopard about to pounce. That the big man appeared to be relaxing in a folding chair was no comfort at all. 

“Subtle, isn’t something you are known for.” 

“Things change.” 

“The more they change the more they stay the same.” 

“Maybe” Fury reached into the paper bag at his feet and pulled out two paper cups. “It depends on why they change and who is invested.” 

Fury had set himself up in the lee of a water-tank. They were common on older buildings in the city, and sturdy materials along with the sheer volumn of water, made an effective shield from snipers. The bite of strong coffee cut through the cool air. Fury held out one cup and nodded to a second chair. Barns took the cup, before scanning all potential sight lines. Satisfied they were reasonably secure or at least had abundant cover, he took an experimental sip before sitting opposite Fury. “You mean who has the bankroll.” 

“Actually, I don’t. At this particular moment we have more enlightened self-interest in this country than at any time since signing of the Articles of Union.” Fury’s features folded into his most skeptical bitch-face “and I want to capitalize on that self-interest.” 

“I’m a revolutionary not a Capitalist.”

“That is a little more forthcoming than I anticipated.” 

“Since you’re a big-picture guy, I am assuming you’re interested in something beyond my skills with a garrote.” 

“No disrespect to those skills, but you’re a bit too infamous for wet work these days.” 

“Not shedding any tears over that.” Barns took another sip, it was hot enough to make him sweat. “Its all in my service record and you’re hardly alone in studying those.”

Fury cracked a smile “so modest.”

“I was never popular with the command staff for the same reasons that you have kept me at arms-length.” 

“Unionist have been politically suspect in this country for a long time.” 

“Change that to politically oppressed, and we can agree on at least one thing.” 

“I don’t disagree with you on a lot of subjects.”

“Your employers wouldn’t like hearing that.” 

“Liberty is messy Barns, its disorganized, and it invites dissent. I have always considered those qualities a weakness before.” 

“What’s changed?” 

“We have been playing an increasingly frantic game of whack-a-mole for better than sixty years, and there is no end in sight. With the destruction of Asgard, it has become obvious to some of us that technologies and science alone are not enough to protect our world. Which brings us back to enlightened self-interest.” 

“What does enlightened self-interest need from me?” 

“The last fifteen years have convinced some influential people that the current squandering of human-capital is unsustainable.” 

“Less background and more specifics, pretty please.” 

“You’ve heard the phrase, filling the hole with the same shit you dug out?” 

“Not in so many words, but the concept is familiar.” 

“I’ve been tasked with rooting out institutional corruption and anybody that seeks to profit from it,” Fury scowled, “but I am out of my depth. My secrets have secrets, as they say. Which means I need a team that can discern the common good from personal gain.” Fury grimaced. “You weren’t just active in unionizing American workers. You were a card-carrying Anarchist, and that is an intellectual commodity in very short supply right now.” 

“Do you have any idea how many murdered Unionist in their graves are cackling with glee to hear you say so?” 

“The irony is not lost on me” Fury grumbled. “but as I recall the communist massacred the anarchist in Russia.” 

“That was the Stalin, and for the record Stalin was to Communism what Hitler was socialism which is to say a rabid dog among the lambs.” Barns didn’t get to talk politics often. The Robber Barons and their donations to select universities and manipulation of State Schools via politics had effectively erased the labor class’s history as effectively as Emporer Chin had exterminated the Mohist in ancient China. “If you want to get at the roots of Hydra, you need to start with Howard Stark and his associations.” 

“Howard Stark?” 

Fury sounded scandalized and Barns didn't buy it for a minute. For all his heroic efforts to defend the Earth, the superspy was deeply entrenched in Cold War institutions and their internal logic. A mindset that produced exactly the type of self-serving corruption he said he was combating. “You know how deep Obadiah Stane was into Stark Enterprises and the kind of technological innovation he spearheaded. Do you think he became a supervillain overnight?” 

Fury’s face went blank for two, maybe three heartbeats. “Howard and Obadiah were close friends” he said. “You think he knew Obadiah was Hydra?” 

“Was Stark authorized to have Steve’s serum, and where was he taking it when he was assassinated?” 

“That is a question you might answer.” 

“Actually, no I can’t.” 

“Can’t or won’t? I heard the Wakandan scientists were able to restore your memory.” 

“Mostly, but some memories were never more than momentary impressions without any associated context.” Fury had to know coercion would cost him more than it gained, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try other means to extract information. “When you have been under as long as me or Natasha, most of what you hear beyond the mission brief is essentially white noise. Sometimes isolated bits fall into place and a pattern is revealed, but most of the time, not.”

Fury took a long pull on his coffee while scanning the nearby rooftops. More sunlight was spilling onto the herbs and vegetables planted on the roof. “I get the feeling you are trying to talk your way out of a job offer, and the more you talk the more certain I am we need you specifically.” 

“Is there an offer?” 

“How do you feel about Roger’s retirement?” 

“Sam is a better tactician and more cognizant of potential collateral damage.” 

The sudden white smile split Fury’s normally dour expression. “Did you just call Captain America reckless?” Unwilling to be baited, Barns raised an eyebrow. 

“Fine” Fury grumbled. “What kind of future roll do you see the Avengers playing in Global security?” 

“I am a signatory of the UN Accords as such I will submit myself to questions from the Security Council but retain the privilege of taking emergency action in the Security Council’s name.” 

“Capitalist no, lawyer yes. What constitutes an emergency?” 

“Immanent threat to health or life.” 

“How is Peter doing?” 

“I will ask next time I see him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never visited NY or the boroughs, so please forgive me if I've butchered the geography. Thanks for the kudos.


	3. The Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post infinity war the world was a lonely place, but post endgame it's not all sunshine and rainbows. Loss and betrayal not withstanding the boys get on with putting their lives back together. Something does not compute but what that might be is undetermined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be a very personal interpretation of post Endgame. Thanks for reading.

“Nick Fury asked me how you are doing.” Peter was demolishing a double bacon avocado burger, fries and a strawberry milkshake. Agent Fury might go fishing sometimes but as a rule his best guess had a more factual basis than a math proof.

“I’m fine. When did you see him?” 

“This morning.” 

“I didn’t get an Avengers Alert.”

“It wasn’t Avengers business” Barns waited for Peter to look up from his food, when he did, Barns continued. “He wants me to coordinate tactical planning between the Avengers and first responder teams.” 

“Agent Nick Fury” Peter clarified. “Offered you a job?” 

“Well, the corner bodega said no thanks.”

“That’s amazing” Peter blinked, and his ears turned red. “You have a job?” 

“Yes”

“Where you are supposed to turn up every day?” 

“Yes” 

“and where people can find you without hiring superspies?”

“Um, maybe.”

“I’ll take it. How much do you think it cost to put Fury on retainer?” 

“What are you planning to pay him with?” 

“Will he accept sexual favors?” 

“If he does, I can pay him not to find me.” 

“You wouldn’t” Peter said. Then seeing Barns’ smirk, he reconsidered “you would. You totally would” the young man seemed less horrified than amused. “You’re the worst” he said with a dramatic shake of his head. 

There was no shortage of mysteries to unravel but putting Peter in Fury’s path seemed like a very bad idea. “I doubt Nick would be interested, sex isn’t his primary currency.”  
Peter shuddered. “Yeah maybe I’ll leave that stone unturned.” 

“Good idea.” 

“I called HR today” translation, Peter had followed his suggestion. 

“What did they say?” 

“They gave me an appointment with Dr. Banner for next week.” 

“Did they say what Banner is working on?” 

“Not so much, but it sounds like he is filling in for Mr. Stark in the R & D department right now.” Peter’s eyes fell, and he pushed the half-filled plate away. 

“Nothing about the scholarship?” Barns didn’t know if that would be distracting, but a fellow could hope. 

“Not yet. Pretty much everywhere I called they’re swamped with all of the disappeared trying to get their jobs back” Peter said. “It’s weird you know, I keep thinking stuff is like normal. I see people I think I know, and then realize I’ve never met them before.” 

“Huh, I know what you mean. I had the same experience with Nick today. It was like talking to an old friend and I kept having to remind myself that we never even liked each other.” Barns had assumed the sense of dislocation was personal and probably related the lack of linear continuity in his life, but Peter’s comment might suggest otherwise. 

“So . . . James, now that you’ve bought me dinner” Peter said, “how about exchanging those sexual favors?” 

***

“You have to be joking.” Barns stared at the pillared entrance to Fury’s new operations center in dismay. They had taken over one of the old banks in the Battery. Its late 19th century granite façade an unnerving reminder of his last days under Hydra’s control. 

It was perhaps symptomatic of Fury’s intended policy of transparency. Two uniformed men with side-arms flanked the carved bronze doors. There were obvious cameras and undoubtably three or more concealed defensive systems. Nicholas Fury would never confuse transparent with vulnerable.  
Barns crossed the street in his trade mark brown leather jacket and ball-cap reinforced with Kevlar. He pushed back the cap’s bill and looked at the central security camera before mounting the granite steps. The sentries seemed uninterested as he entered the building. 

The massive bronze panel closed smoothly behind him, as he looked over the remodeled interior. Three levels of metal scaffolding scaled the walls leaving the central space open to the ornate ceiling. If you stormed these doors with a full squadron, a handful of defenders could conceivably decimate your forces with few casualties. There was a task-oriented aspect to the design. The marble floor hosted ranks of the ubiquitous gray desks where staff processed the blizzard of paperwork every administration generated. From his vantage the catwalks hosted glass enclosed offices and meeting rooms. Of course, any vital systems would be out of sight, but as a rejection of back-room dealing and general skullduggery it was a remarkably cogent statement. On the other hand, it reminded him of the Heli carrier where he had been held prisoner if only briefly. “That’s two demerits.” 

“Sargent Barns” 

“Commander Hill.” The tailored suite might fool a civilian, but he noted that the generous cut would facilitate extreme and rapid movement as well as conceal multiple weapons.

“Not Commander, not any more. Ms. Hill will do.” 

The hand that gripped his was firm and calloused, not neglecting her training then, and that made him feel better. “By the same token, Mr. Barns will suffice. You will want to check me for weapons?” He looked for an obvious security station. 

“Not necessary. You wouldn’t have made it through the door if we weren’t confident of your intentions” she said with a warm smile. “Please follow me.” 

As she turned to lead him toward the back of the building, he noted that while her movement was efficient and deliberate, the staccato rhythm he associated with military training was not apparent. “How secure is this building?” 

“That I am afraid is above your security clearance.” 

Their passage threaded between multiple metal screens and panels of clear polymer. Literal transparency, but the multiple layers were a combination more impenetrable than ten inches of solid steel. At the rear of the building was the old vault. Hill led him inside to an elevator tight enough they were brushing shoulders. Their descent was swoopingly fast and car let them out in a slightly larger but otherwise featureless room. It was a final kill zone and Barns was glad he didn’t have to lead an assault here. Of course, part of his job was to plan one. 

The left wall retracted from view and beyond that portal was a large open room with multiple work-stations and teams of people monitoring everything from traffic cams to satellite surveillance. 

Hill crossed to the far side and up a shallow ramp. Two men and one woman broke off their conversation and stood to face him. “Mr. Barns, this is Mr. Cole, Mr. Valdez, and Ms. Carter, they are your management team. They will interface between you and the primary surveillance teams. I believe you and the Director have already discussed the objectives and prospective results.”.

Barns nodded an acknowledgement of that speculation. “Thank you, Ms. Hill.” 

Turning to his team. “I am pleased to meet all of you. We are going to start with a deep dive into the early 20th century. Specifically, we are looking into the associations of Howard Stark; whose fortunes rose, and who’s declined. Whether there were any fortuitous deaths in that circle of associates and who benefited from them. Are there any burning questions?” 

Cole’s ruddy brow furrowed. “Wont that distract from monitoring current threats?” 

“I am assuming the director’s confidence in assigning you to this team means that current threats can be neutralized. You should absolutely bring anything unusual to my attention, but my task is anticipating potential hostiles before they steel them-selves to act.” 

The leggy blond gave Barns an appraising look. “You have a question Ms. Carter?” 

“Why Howard Stark, his son has a much more checkered past.” Barns remembered her grandmother had been a close associate of Howard’s and that might rankle, it might even implicate this agent as a Hydra operative.

“Your family has past and current associations with the Starks” he said. “Are you up for this?” 

“My background is no more suspect than yours Mr. Barns.” 

Good, she knew who he was. Hardly surprising since she had been actively surveilling Captain America. “I believe that to be true, but if you are not comfortable with the assignment, accommodations can be made.” Hill was managing to keep an impartial expression on her face, but he didn’t believe it for a second. “On the other hand, I think we balance each other’s perspectives very well.”

***

Aunt May’s kitchen cupboards were looking pretty bare and Peter decided a grocery run needed to be his next chore. Armed with a list of staples, rice, beans, pasta, onions and garlic, he took the bus to Super Pioneer on Broadway. Buying groceries meant a commitment to cooking and while he knew the basics it felt weird. The plant nursery by the bus stop caught his eye and with lush flower boxes framing the windows and doors seemed like a healthy distraction. 

Peter wandered down the rows of potted plants and trees, checking out the names and required growing conditions. His parents had fruit trees in their yard and he still remembered the sticky sweetness of tree ripened fruit. It was the row of herb and vegetable seedlings that really grabbed his attention. Aubergine, heirloom tomatoes, cinnamon basil, they were unfamiliar but looking at the pictures he imagined the taste and it filled him with contentment. 

“What kind of sun does your yard get?” The young woman in her green apron smiled helpfully. Tightly curled black hair framed an oval face with sparkling brown eyes. 

“No yard. We – I live in an apartment. Would any of these do alright in a windowsill?” 

“The basil would do okay in a sunny window, but the vegetables need room for their roots to spread. Some people manage it, but landlords can be touchy.” Tilting her head, she smiled wistfully. “The way your face lit up, I took you for a veteran gardener.” 

Chuckling Peter smiled back. “Nothing bigger than a petri dish I’m afraid. But you’re right, looking at these guys makes me feel kind of happy.” 

“You’re one of the returned?” 

“What?”

“One of the people that came back after the Avengers defeated Thanos.” 

It could hardly be secret when half of the world vanished, but Peter had been very much at the edges of any conversations about those events. “Yeah. I hadn’t heard it called that before. How did you know?” 

“My mom is one. She gets these crazy happy expressions and then sort of realizes where she is and looks sad, but when I ask about it she isn’t sure why.” 

“That must be hard.” Peter thought about his Aunt and swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. 

“A little bit, but I’m just glad she’s back.” Peter felt the tears start to gather and turned away. “I think I need to research this a bit.” 

“Are you okay?” 

The note of sudden concern checked his urge to escape. Turning back, he saw she was genuinely distressed. “There are some bad moments. But mostly I’m fine. I’m really glad she had you to come home to.” 

The young woman’s eyes widened. “It was hard. Really hard for the survivors but we formed support groups to help each other through. You might want to try one. I mean the world isn’t the way most of you remember it but talking to other people in a structured environment helps.” 

She meant well. Peter knew that but no. He couldn’t go sit in a therapy group and hope for any benefit if he had secret identities to protect. “Maybe,” he held up one of the empty shopping bags. “First I need to restock the cupboards.” 

The market was even more depressing. Many shelves were all but bare. It had been on the News, so he shouldn’t be surprised. The global economy had crashed after the battle in Wakanda. The loss of labor to produce goods had been more devastating than the loss of people to consume them. For years people had gotten by on the surplus left behind but the economy stagnated. Now all these people were back needing food, clothing, and medicine and there was a serious lag between the new demands and the production of goods to fill them.


	4. Something is Rotten in Denmark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The opposition makes their move and Peter steps in it big time. Maria Hill is just doing her job, maybe she shouldn't enjoy it so much. James gets a clue and feels like the worst boyfriend in the world. Fury calls BS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at titles. Distraught Peter, Spidey senses on the fritz. Gama radiation and super powers?

The asymmetry of Stark Tower allowed a flood of sunlight to spill into the plaza. Sitting on one of the plaza benches Peter hefted the muffin with disdain; blood sugar was a real problem with his enhanced metabolism, but his stomach was in knots. The city’s infrastructure had suffered after the Snap. Delayed maintenance meant trains and buses that broke down with increasing regularity. A fact James had emphasized last night over pasta. So, Peter was 90 minutes early for his meeting. Better early than late, but he felt like a monkey in the jacket and tie. “Appearances” Mr. Stark used to mutter before every meeting.

Tony would not approve, the philanthropist, inventor, super hero, might have a checkered past when it came to age-appropriate relationships, but he was hell on wheels when it came to sexual exploitation. It made Peter feel a little sick imagining what Aunt May or Tony would say about him dating someone as old as James, and he couldn’t shake the idea that James was waiting for him to realize it and move on. They were way past snogging, but neither the back seat of a car nor a bathroom stall was conducive to what Peter hoped for, and he couldn’t bear the thought of bringing James into Aunt May’s apartment. For that matter James hadn’t invited Peter to his place. Did James have a place? He wasn’t staying at the Tower and none of the friendly Avengers lived within the Boroughs. The thought that James might still be camping out in flophouses and culverts when Peter had a place he was rattling around in like solitary bean in a tin can was humiliating. 

“Are you going to eat that?” 

Harley was standing ten feet away, skateboard dangling from one hand and a cigarette from the other. The boy had been barely 13 when Mr. Stark had introduced him to Peter, all floppy blond hair and insatiable curiosity. “What happened to you?” 

“I grew up.” 

Crowds of people sent his Spidey senses into overdrive, he wasn’t always lucky enough that they numbed down to this point. That didn’t mean he liked being accosted by snarky teenagers. Peter tossed the muffin to Harley, who dropped his cigarette catching it.

“Didn’t say I wanted it.” 

“It’s yours now” Peter said heading for the Tower’s front door. Behind, he heard the crack of wheels hitting the pavement and the twinned clatter of bearings and the hiss of acrylic on pavement. 

Harley came around from the left and cut across Peter’s path. “What are you doing here?” 

“Minding my own business.” Peter tried to go around, but the teenager shifted his center of gravity, reversed the direction the board was traveling and cut Peter off again. 

“No, I mean it. What are you doing here?” The kid was vibrating with hostility and every playground brawl Peter had ever been in ran through his mind. 

“Dude! What are you doing?” 

“Harley!” Mr. Hogan strode down the front steps. 

The kid dropped his eyes and scowled. OMG Peter thought: is that what Tony sees when he calls me out for sulking. 

The boy shot a look in Mr. Hogan’s direction before swiveling around to glare at Peter before dropping his head and shooting off across the plaza on his skateboard. Manically weaving among the pedestrians and raising calls of outrage in his wake. 

Hogan intruded his bulk into Peter’s view of Harley’s escape. “Sorry about that Mr. Parker. Your security badge is waiting for you at reception.” 

“Mr. Hogan, what’s going on?” 

Mr. Stark’s head of security looked after the retreating boy before turning back to Peter. “I can’t comment on private family business.” 

“Happy?”

“Mr. Parker” Hogan said. “I believe they are waiting for you upstairs.” The former linebacker kept his face neutral and his voice level but did not meet Peter’s eyes. 

“Yes sir, I’ll head to that meeting now.” Peter couldn’t believe that he was being treated like a paparazzi by no less than Happy Hogan. 

Peter had never been on the 66th floor before. These were the corporate offices, and conference rooms. The plump young woman guiding him was polite if a little brisk as she held the door for him. Dr. Banner and Ms. Potts sat at the table flanked by two cadaverous fossils that could only be lawyers. With the floor to ceiling windows behind them, Peter struggled to read their expressions. This was not the usual face Stark Industries put forward for its legal team, and Peter got a sinking feeling.

Bruce was a lighter shade of green than when he was hulked-out, the midnight blue dress shirt strained over bulky musculature but was a nice compliment to the blackness of his hair. However, the unsmiling face was more in line with his Hulk persona than the man who had integrated his warring personalities into a jovial hero Peter had seen in recent videos. Ms. Potts was dressed in dark tweed and had her hair up in that tight French twist she wore for board meetings. Really not the kind of meeting Peter was expecting. Had the snub at Mr. Stark's funeral been more personal than he thought and how had he misread the situation so badly? 

“Mr. Parker, thank you for coming” said Death Warmed-over. “Please have a seat.” 

The only unoccupied chair was at the far end of the table with a stack of documents three inches high, next to a pair of pens and a full water-glass.   
Peter closed the door and scanned all the faces in the room. “What is going on here?” 

“It has come to our attention that there are some unresolved rights to intellectual property” Dead for a Week, answered. “It is our intention to resolve these issues before they become more complicated.” 

“How lovely” Peter answered. 

Death warmed over actually smirked. “Mr. Parker, do I detect a note of hostility?” 

“I’ve never seen you before” he said to the lawyer. Switching his focus to Pepper “and apparently I never met you either.”   
She flinched at the accusation. “Peter, I can explain” there was an unfamiliar crack in her voice. 

Having seen what teenage drama looked like from the outside, he wasn’t about to give them a show. “I am sure you can, but it will have to wait.” Peter reopened the door and brushed past the hand of his previous guide standing in the hall. She pushed forward again grabbing his lapel with surprising strength. He shrugged her off a little more forcefully than intended and set the woman sprawling. 

“Sorry” Peter muttered to the air as he sprinted for the nearest stairwell. 

Gaining the stairwell, Peter slipped through the door away from view and sagged against the wall. What just happened? He had enjoyed tinkering about with Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark and always thought they liked it as much as he did. Ms. Potts had seemed to be amused by their conversations and if she was a stickler for keeping everything age-appropriated he never imagined she was looking to make a buck off his work. Or that she might resent the attention Tony gave him.

His brain was still reeling with the contradictions when doors on the landing below him crashed open. Ducking out of sight Pete mutter “oh come on Spidey senses, way to leave a brother in a lurch.” 

“Spread out he can’t have gone far.” Damn if that wasn’t the voice of Mr. Starks least favorite person in the whole world. The sound of running boots echoed through the stairwell.  
If he couldn’t go down, then Peter had to go up. On the higher floors he might find an open window or one of the narrow terraces. With the bracers under his shirt sleeves he could sling web if he had too and because he never left home without it, his suit was in the backpack he had brought to the meeting. Though exiting the same building as Spiderman that he had entered as Peter Parker had risks, they were better than allowing Ross to capture him and figure it out on his own.

Fast and quiet as only a hunting spider can be, Peter headed for the private floors. “You think they would put more boots on the ground if they were hunting Spiderman” so maybe his secret identity was still useful, if not in the way he imagined. 

This stair case only went to the 73rd floor, and the private levels started at the 77th. Mr. Stark had shown Peter the building’s specs a million-years ago, so he knew all the windows in Stark Tower were inch thick polymer, to say they were shatter resistant was an understatement. Now wait a minute, he knew the engineering of this building top to bottom. In fact, there was an interface with Friday on this floor and he used to have clearance; there were passages and saferooms throughout the building only Friday had access to. The stairs had been awfully quiet for a while, that couldn’t be good.

***

Barns was staring at spreadsheets that reconstructed the inheritance of Marie Collins-Carbonell. Her father had made his fortune in the western expansion of the railways and the export of bison furs to Europe. What was missing in this report was any record of Collins’ existence before he invested in the railroad. The pattern of invented personas and financial manipulation seemed to have accelerated with the Louisiana purchase. It was no wonder historians had missed it. Who wants to know your national identity is based on the efforts of an international cabal to enslave humanity.

“Mr. Barns” Carter was seated at her station looking at the screen, one corner of which showed a window transmitting troop movements. That was strange, then he saw the coordinates. 

“What have we got?” 

“The U. S. Army has cordoned off Stark Tower, Sir.” 

“Casualties?”

“Six we are aware of sir.”

Barns looked at his unfamiliar station and despaired of getting communications going fast enough to do any good. “Somebody get me contact with Director Fury.”  
Fury’s office was one level up, multiple screens on the wall were tracking activity around Stark Tower and first responder stations in close proximity. On the left was a florid whitehaired man in an airplane cabin, Air Force One by the look but you could never be certain. 

“Mr. President. If you did not authorize this raid, then who did?” 

“Well it’s a very delicate situation, Director Fury. Command staff feels their legitimate security concerns are drowning in fairy dust.” 

“Does the command staff think seizing the assets of private industrialist will keep us technologically superior to our enemies?” 

“It won’t come to that Director. Private industry and the military have a long and profitable history together.” 

“Which all comes crashing down when you put a gun to the head of the CEO of the most technologically innovative corporation we have.” 

“I assure you director, Mrs. Stark is in no danger.”

“And you know that how? Either you are in charge Mr. President or you are not. Which is it?” 

“How dare you!”

“Mr. President, I don’t work for you.” Fury paused to let that sink in. “If you will not comply with Article six of the U. N. Security Accords, then you leave me few choices.” 

“Do I – need -- to remind you” the President stammered, “you’re an American citizen -- operating on American soil and this is . . . “ 

Fury abruptly drew his hand across his throat, and the screen went blank. 

“Treason” Barns said. Fury looked at him standing outside the camera’s range. “He was about to accuse you of treason.” 

“He was, but I don’t serve at the whim of a Kree puppet dictator.” 

“Kree . . .“ it made absolute sense and it was terrifying. “Are we facing another invasion?” 

“Hard to know, Mr. Barns. First, we need to find out if they are reacting to your investigation or if this was a premeditated aggression. Ms. Hill, please initiate the Q-directive.” 

“Already in motion Director.”

Barns had always appreciated Fury’s negative expectations “what is a Q-directive?” 

“That exceeds your security clearance” Hill said.

“Director “Carter called. “We have video contact with the Tower.” 

“Bring it up.” 

The red and black cowl with its spider web design filled Barns with relief. “Spiderman here, who am I talking to?” 

“This is U. N Security Director Fury. What is your status Spiderman?” 

“I have extracted Ms. Potts and her daughter. They are in one of the panic rooms waiting for rescue. Please tell me you can get them out.” 

"What about other hostages?” 

“Most of the staff is under armed guard in the cantina. Dr. Banner is incapacitated and still in Ross’s custody.” 

“Ross, General Ross?”

“Yes sir.” 

“Good work. Are you secure?” 

“I am on one of the private floors and have limited access to the Tower’s defensive systems. The intruders seem to have a technology that suppresses Gama Radiation. I am definitely at a disadvantage here.” Peter stepped back from the camera and a darker red stain spreading from armpit to hip became visible. 

“Understood. We’re sending help. Mr. Barns, do you have anything to add?” 

Did he have anything to say? How about if you bleed to death I will kill you. “Don’t do anything stupid.” 

“How can I, when you took all the stupid with you.” Spiderman answered. Carter’s head whipped around to stare at Barns. Her initial wide-eyed look narrowed to speculative and Barns heart sank. Ah hell, she was on the scent now. 

“Ms. Carter, please monitor this channel and update us to any changes in Spiderman’s status.” On the hunt, and Fury had just handed her permission to interrogate Peter to the limits of professional subterfuge. 

“Someone needs to contact his family.” 

Fury turned to Barns, his expression suddenly turned very sad. “He doesn’t have any family. I thought you knew.”

The realization hit hard, every reference to Peter’s aunt had been in the past tense, and he was too stupid to notice. 

“Mr. Barns, why are you still standing there? Go rescue Spiderman.”


	5. Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post battle fall-out. The Avengers become aware Peter and James are dating. The plot thickens, General Ross isn't just a narcissistic, war-mongering A-hole. Steve Rogers has issues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am cognizant that Marvel's naming a malicious genocidal race "Kree" is upsetting to members of the Cree Nation specifically and to First Nations People in Canada and the USA in general. While I have used the cannonical name; at best this Marvel invention is deeply insensitive to indigenous people and vulnerable communities in North America.

Peter didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or to scream. It was a generously sized room but that only served to amplify the multiple voices warring for his attention. Rhodes had shed his War Machine’s armor, while Sam was still wearing his wings and flight-suit, and both were glaring at Deadpool perched on the edge of Peter’s bed. The former mercenary still wearing his cowl was absently stroking Peter’s hand as if to reassure himself the young man was still among the living. Antman and Wasp were on the opposite side of the bed bickering good naturedly while giving Peter a play by play of the fight to liberate the Tower but while shooting nervous glances at Winter Soldier leaning against the doorjamb.

The nurse had made several efforts to clear the room to no effect. Ms. Potts appeared in the doorway and the decibel level dropped like a stone in a bottom less well. “I’m sure Peter appreciates your concern, but do any of you enjoy being hovered over after taking a bullet?” 

The point made, one by one all the Avengers exited except James. Potts glared. When that didn’t have any affect, her eyes went to Peter. 

“It’s okay, I want James to stay.” 

“Do you now” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “Mr. Parker, if you keep insisting on fixing problems I have no solution for, I will have no choice but to give you a raise.” 

James arched an eyebrow, and she laughed at him. 

Pointing a finger, she said “you Mr. Barns are not nearly as sneaky as your reputation suggests”. James pulled his head back, eyes wide, and jaw dropping in mimed innocence. 

Peter started to giggle, and immediately gasped in pain as the stiches protested. James practically teleported from his spot by the doorway to Peter’s bedside. 

Ms. Potts put on a scowl, but Peter wasn’t buying it. 

“Mr. Parker needs to rest” she declared. 

James ignored her, looking deeply into Peter’s eyes and clasping his uninjured hand. “I’m okay” Peter said. 

“No, you aren’t.” 

“But I will be.” 

Ms. Potts nodded at the nurse standing by the IV bags, and she injected one medication or another into the mix. “You need to rest” She said sternly. “Mr. Barns can stay because he is the best imaginable body guard and because removing him would task my already decimated security staff.” 

“How bad is it? I’m sorry I couldn’t get your people out.” 

“That was never your responsibility” she answered. “Though, honestly if I knew I was interviewing Spiderman this morning, I might have been less stressed.”

James looked up at that, the wheels almost visibly turning. “Peter was never supposed to have been in danger” Pepper explained. “They wanted the formula and patent for his aerosol fiber.” 

“You were going to let them have it” James asked? 

His Spidey senses were getting fuzzy, but Peter could tell this wasn’t going well. “How is Dr. Banner?” 

“Resting” Pepper said. “It may be slow going, he hadn’t fully recovered from using Infinity Stones before Ross and his goons overran the mansion with that damn science project of theirs.” 

“Language” Peter muttered. Pepper looked away from the soldier in time to see Peter’s eyelids flutter, and finally close. 

Turning back to Barns “you’re welcome to stay with him but a debrief might be useful”. Barns glanced down to their intertwined fingers wistfully. 

“There is an empty room across the hall and Nurse Rosa won’t leave his side until you return, and the doctor is just down the hall.” Barns was almost vibrating with tension, and Pepper knew the feeling too well, remembering exactly that same sense of helplessness whenever Tony went into battle. 

“Across the hall?” 

“Not even ten feet Mr. Barns, and with the door closed we can say what needs to be said without disturbing his recovery.” James looked up to meet her eyes. 

Releasing Peter’s hand, he straightened his shoulders. “Then let’s do this.” 

Pepper led the way. The room was basically an entire furnished suite, complete with mini-cooler, microwave, and bathroom. Pepper flopped down in an arm chair before looking up to Barns standing by the door back straight and arms crossed over his chest. 

“You have an opinion?” 

“Many. But I think you mean about Peter, and those are more flexible than you might think.” 

He didn’t relax, and Pepper sighed. “All right we can talk about that. First thing, he is of age to choose his ‘friends’. Your mutual attraction is no surprise, it gave Tony fits, but I have to commend you both for putting it on the back burner this long.” 

“You don’t think I’m taking advantage?” 

“Taking advantage?” She said in surprise. “Far from it. I’m thrilled that neither of you is pining away like a wounded badger in his hole.” 

“So, you’re okay with us?” 

“I am not giving you carte blanch. Peter thought Tony hung the moon, and losing his aunt the way he did, makes any new attachments tricky.” 

“What happened to her” James asked? “He didn’t tell me she died but I should have guessed.” 

Pepper took a deep breath, “she grieved herself to death”. Pepper sank deeper into the chair as if a weight was pressing her down. 

“Oh my god” James whispered. 

“Could you please sit down” Pepper asked. “I don’t like being loomed over and I am not in any shape to drag you off a ledge”.

“No, of course not.” James crossed the room and sat on a nearby couch. “Does Peter know?” 

“He does. There was no point in lying about it. We tried to make sure she had support, but you have no idea what it was like. The entire population was traumatized. Thanos didn't limit himself to the people; it was all life, plants, animals, right down to the microbes. We had to evacuate the Midwest because it became a desert, and the Amazon isn't much better.” 

“Big picture stuff.” 

“Stark Industries lost a hundred thousand employees and had three times as many dependents to provide for” Pepper said defensively.

“I wasn’t criticizing. Peter talked about that part, it would be like him to dismiss his own feelings as irrelevant compared to the big picture.” 

“That does sound like him. What about you Mr. Barns?” She redirected the conversation. “Rogers’ had to have taken you by surprise. I was never sure about the nature of your relationship, but it seems to have blown-up in your face.” 

“Our relationship was never what people imagined.” 

“Captain Rogers seems to think you need support.” 

“Steve is a punk.” Pepper noted there was some venom in that statement. “Our relationship is complicated, and not all of it reflects well on him.” 

“Tony said something similar.” Pepper cocked her head “so you think things will be different with Peter?” 

“We are dating, but you already knew that.” Pepper nodded. “He seems to have developed some sense of self-preservation. Steve never had that.” 

“Still doesn’t” Pepper said. 

“Oh jeez, what's he done now?” 

“Nothing you should be thinking about. I would much rather you focus on Peter. Now, can we get to the debriefing?” 

James snorted. “Where do we start?” 

“Where is Ross?” Pepper said with cold rage. 

“Dead, possibly long dead.” 

“Explain?” 

“I put a bullet through his head.” 

“Friday, are there any outstanding warrants for Sargent Barns?” 

“All warrants have been resolved” the AI said. “Though a commendation for extraordinary service has been filed in the last hour.”

Pepper looked closely at James. “How did you manage that? I would have expected Director Fury to have you in irons.” 

“Nick looked at the evidence and agreed my action was appropriate to the circumstance.” 

What evidence was that?” 

“A pool of blue blood.” 

“Blue?” 

The Kree have blue blood.” 

“I thought they were blue all over.” 

“So did I, but apparently not. Ms. Hill says that information is above my pay grade.”

“You are suggesting General Ross was the agent of a hostile alien race?” 

“That’s my take away” James said.

“No way to know how long this agent was in place or if there are more of them?”

James shook his head. “We’re looking at Ross’s background now. As for the second question, we are assuming there are many more Kree agents. Hydra may be entirely a Kree creation or simply a convenient vehicle for them to assert dominance over Earth.” 

“Barns, you are scaring the hell out of me.” 

“Scares the hell out of me too” he said. “We need to adjust our strategy. Based on what history we have for the Infinity Stones, they operated on Gama energy. Hydra has been trying to weaponize them for over a century. This captured device suggests they’ve changed tactics.” 

“Kree, I was hoping we wouldn’t hear from them for a long while” Pepper said. “We know Thanos was deep into Kree councils, but our information post Snap indicates the Culling devastated the Kree worlds as well. They maybe rethinking their plans.” 

“So where did the devise come from and is it intended as a weapon against the Infinity Stones” James asked? 

“Interesting question” Pepper said. “I’ve been puzzling over something Dr. Strange said.”

“Not my favorite source of intelligence, but sure why not?”

“He said ‘the Stones chose when and where they will appear’ indicating to me that they may be sentient.” James looked at her blankly. “Sentient, means self-aware. Isn’t it interesting that every experimental use of the Stones as a weapon has produced a hero?”

James’ frowned in thought for a full minute before sagging back into his seat “you are going to break my brain”.

“Turnabout is fair play” she said with satisfaction. 

***

Peter woke up with a start, alone and in an unfamiliar room. The rush of adrenaline kicked the Spidey senses into high gear. The conversation at the end of the hall might as well have been shouted over his bedside. 

“You can’t do this Bucky, he’s just a kid, its nothing but transference of dependency because Tony died.” 

“Rogers you are so full of crap! You really think a single community college course in psychology qualifies to you to diagnose battle trauma?” 

“It’s not right Buck! You’ll ruin his life.” 

“Steve, go home.” 

A door slammed, and Peter’s senses track the curiously light if angry tread of Rogers retreat. James didn’t seem to be moving and Peter imagined him sagging against the wall and trying to process his best friend’s objections. 

Not right, Rogers had said. ‘Transference’ ha! As if Peter had ever thought of Mr. Stark that way. But it would bother James, he didn’t trust himself or his feelings. There was transference alright, but it wasn’t Peter’s or James’ who were displacing their emotional attachments. 

Peter woke again. “Ms. Potts, what’s going on?” 

“Good morning Peter, would you please call me Pepper”. 

Peter levered himself up to sitting with a wince as the tape around his ribs pulled in stinging protest at the change in position. “Doesn’t seem professional” he protested.

“Maybe, but you are going to have to get used to it. Hierarchy is for small minds and you are definitely not that” She said. “Speaking of big brains, Harley has something we want your opinion on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been a Stucky fan for years, so the scene of Steve passing the torch to Sam while seriously cool, broke my heart just a little more in a film that killed off so many of my favorite characters.


	6. Naming names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and James finally do the deed. Captain America shows up and gets told off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Said it before, but I am a Stucky fan so this is my explanation of the monkey wrench Marvel has thrown into that fandom. This is as smutty as it gets, which makes me kind of sad, but I also find it emotionally satisfying. Go figure.

The decaying brickwork and rickety back stairs were old-school Brooklyn. Vinegar Hill wasn’t gentrifying as quickly as some parts of the city, and like most of the born residents Peter preferred it that way. Inside the third floor flat proved the outside was a lie. True to Peter’s imagination Winter Soldier’s den was spartan. The scarred pine floors were scrubbed almost white. There were simple cushions on the floor, a long narrow coffee table against one wall with note books and pens that must serve as a desk. The kitchen had two high stools in front of a window with a sill deep enough to serve as a breakfast bar. If there was anything like a plate or skillet they were stored out of sight and easy reach. 

“No knives?”

“Lots of knives, but an assassin should at least work for it.” James took Peter’s hand, walking backward he led the spider ling to the bedroom. 

A thin futon mattress was spread on the floor with matching lavender and green duvet and bolsters. An umbrella-stand in the corner held a pair of bo-staves and at least one sword, along with a few items. Peter didn’t know.

There was an aesthetic to these rooms that Peter didn’t recognize but it felt achingly comfortable and familiar. “James, this is beautiful. How did you – hell when did you find the time?” Purging Ross’s minions before they could go to ground had been a priority, and Peter knew James and Director Fury were worried about the next attack, because there was inevitably a next. 

“That means a lot. It’s kind of simple and not what you’re used to, but it just seemed right to me. Do you really like it?” 

‘Yes. I like it, I like it a lot. And once we have some laundry on the floor, I’m going to show you how much.” 

James’ face went from blushing to confusion. You could almost see the wheels turn in his head as he translated from ‘clothes on the floor’ to equaling a naked Peter. The almost shy smile that matched the growing flush faltered. Electric blue eyes sharpened, “Wait a minute. You called me James. When did that happen?”

“After our first kiss. It’s the name you were born to and one, nobody else uses. And I want a least some part of you that is only mine. Not Bucky, and not Sasha, something that is ours only.” 

“Sasha is what they called me in Russia.” Barnes said with a furrowed brow. “What do you know?” 

“Please, like no one guessed you and Natasha had a thing. I’m sorry about her though, she was really nice, scary as fuck but really nice.” 

Barns giggled. “She was terrifying. You have no idea, they called her black widow for a reason.“ Peter stepped into the few feet them and touched James’ lip with a gentle finger. 

“I said I don’t want to share you, at least not right now. Tell me about your friend another time.” Peter’s fingers dropped to the top buttons of James’ shirt. In seconds the shirt and leather jacket were open and pushed back to expose the swell of pectorals and the sculpted hills and valleys of the man’s neck and shoulders. The last few buttons pulled loose on their own as Peter’s face dipped toward exposed skin. James smelled like cinnamon and citrus, and Peter’s tongue darted out to verify. 

Contact arced across his synapsis like a magnetic current. This was how it was for him in combat, the energy field of his opponent melding with his and telegraphing every move before it happened. Usually that communication was one sided, but James aura pulsed in response and matched frequencies. It had been like this between them from the first time they had kissed. 

James settled one hand at Peter’s waist, while the other cupped the base of his skull before lowering his mouth to Peter’s and dragging the edge of his teeth across Peter’s lower lip. 

Pulling back to look at the younger man. The super-soldier’s pupils were blown so wide the iris was a bare rim of electric blue pulsing with their shared heartbeat. 

“Wow” Peter breathed. 

James swooped in again, their lips meshed, and Peter lost track of time, lost awareness of space, and came back to his senses sprawled on the futon without his T-shit, while James wrestled with the buttons on his jeans. The super soldier was bare to the waist, hair loose on his shoulders and falling over his eyes. 

The metal hand was almost searing hot and braced on Peter’s bulge while the flesh hand slid five metal buttons free one by one. Peter’s hips arched up against the warm metal while his calves circled behind James’ thighs to convulse and pull the man down on top of him. 

James fell face first onto Peter’s chest. “Not fair” the hot breath of those words muffled by Peter’s body skittered across his skin like beads of ice water on a hot skillet. 

“Poor thing, are four limbs too much for you?” 

James lifted his head to look Peter in the eye. “All of you is too much for me. I can’t believe we are here, that you want me, that you love me. It’s too much and I’m afraid it’s all a dream but I don’t ever want to wake up if it is.” 

Peter tried to speak, couldn’t get the words around the lump in his throat, couldn’t break down in tears because that would scare James to death. So, he did the only thing a mute orphan child could do. 

He rolled James onto his back. Gave the man a commanding stare, demanding he be still then scooted back until his face rested on James hip. One hot breath feathering the man’s length drew a moan. The second made James arch his hips off the floor. 

***

Peter woke with James’ stubbled chin pillowed on a bare shoulder. His body ached sweetly in some unfamiliar places and he couldn’t suppress a victorious smile.   
That smile faded as other impressions filtered through. It was dark out but relatively early, and faint vibrations through the floor indicated someone was on the back stairs. 

Peter slid out of James’ embrace, and rolled up to a kneeling position. “What? Come back to bed” the older man grumbled. 

“Someone is here.” 

James rolled to free of the sheets and to his feet before the sleep had cleared from his eyes. 

“Bucky!” The windows rattled with the pounding on the door. 

“Shit!” 

Peter grabbed his boxers and slipped them on while James was still putting on his shirt. “I think it’s my turn.”

“He’s not here for you” James protested. 

“He’s here about me. And its God Damn time he had to deal with reality.” 

Peter was almost out the door when he heard James softly say “Language.” The incongruity startled a laugh from Peter. 

“Bucky!” The windows rattled harder. 

Peter’s measured walk became a sprint for the door “Not fucking cool” he growled. Flinging the door open, Peter filled it before Rogers could rush in. “Are you fucking senile old man?” 

The grizzled veteran tried to push Peter aside and blinked when the younger man didn’t budge. Peter looked at the hand flat against his bare chest and then to the Captain’s face.   
“Put that hand in your pocket before I remove it from your arm.” 

The hand fell to Rogers side. “Where’s Bucky?” 

“Getting dressed” Peter growled. Roger’s turned almost yellow under the Halide lamp over the door. “And what the hell are you on about, making a spectacle at a superhero’s lair?” 

“I want to talk to Bucky.” 

“Yeah? I’m pretty sure you said your piece, and that he gave you an answer.” 

“Get out of my way kid.” Spidey Senses tingling, Peter swayed around the oncoming fist. Since Rogers had over committed to that move, Peter applied an Aikido grip Natasha had taught him, spinning the soldier around in his tracks and shoving him back down the stairs. 

The veteran’s reflexes were still good enough to keep him from crashing head first into the landing, but the outraged disbelief on Roger’s face was satisfying. “I am not into elder abuse” Peter said “but if you keep pushing I might forget that.” 

“Why won’t you let me talk to Bucky?” Rogers whined.

“Because a century of emotional abuse is enough.”

“What?” 

“You go back in time for the love of your life and history remains exactly the same, did you really think that would fly?” James had come up behind Peter but hadn’t stepped into view. For which he was grateful, wanting to defuse this calamity before someone did something they couldn’t undo. 

“I loved Peggy.” 

“Of course, you did, that’s why you let her marry another man” Confronting this lie was surprisingly satisfying. “You left him because you couldn’t admit what you want. Because it wasn’t manly, it’s a pathetic excuse but hardly original.” How much James had thought about these things Peter didn’t know but the breach between the former partners was too deep for unrequited love to be all there was to it. “What I can’t forgive is that you left him in Hydra’s clutches. This time you knew he was alive, you knew they were torturing him and you – did -- nothing.” 

“You don’t understand.”

“You’re right, I don’t” Peter answered. “Because love is never a sin, and love doesn’t deserve to be punished, but you never figure that out.” 

James’ hand landed gently on Peter’s shoulder as he stepped into the doorframe. “You lied to me, Steven. All this time you were saying how glad you were that people like me didn’t have to live in shame and fear, but you were manipulating me. Is that really what friends do, where is your Justice in that?” 

“But -- the bible -- says“ Rogers stammered. 

Peter threw up his hands in exasperation, but James settled his arm around the younger man’s waist. “The Bible says thou shalt not kill. How many wars have been waged, how many millions of innocents perished in God’s name? What the hell is wrong with you, are you still nine?” 

“Go home Rogers” Peter said. “You bailed on the people that love you. Now leave us in peace.” 

“But I want”

“A second chance?” James asked “to apologize? Forgiveness? I’m afraid that ship has sailed. The line ends here pal.” James drew Peter out of the doorway and slammed the panel shut. 

While James fastened all the locks and latches on their door, Peter went back to the bedroom to get dressed, standing in the night air in nothing but boxers had chilled him thoroughly. The act of clothing himself gave Peter time to calm the rapid pounding of his heart. Going back to the front room he found James opening a bottle of wine. There was a pair of jelly jars on the kitchen windowsill. 

“You knew he was gay.” 

Peter snorted, “I have eyes.” 

James succeeded in removing the cork and walked to the windowsill to pour. “You didn’t argue when I said he wasn’t.” 

“None for me thanks” Peter interrupted James pouring. “You said he wasn’t your lover. I believed that.” 

James filled one jar and tossed it back with a single gulp, before pouring again. “And the rest?”

“I had some time on my hands at the Tower. It was possible he didn’t mean Peggy Carter and I wanted to be sure.” 

“And now you’re sure?” 

“I am sure he never married in the U. S. and that he never filed a tax return under his own name.” 

“You don’t like wine?” 

“Humph! Spiders are hella sensitive to toxins.” 

“Toxins, I’ll have you know this is a very good Pinot.” 

“The toxic part is what makes your brain fuzzy.” 

“It doesn’t make my brain fuzzy.” James said in mock outrage. 

“Because you are a different kind of enhanced human” Peter said. “Anyway . . .” 

“Anyway, what” James asked. 

“Anyway, I didn’t expect you to be surprised by what I said. I just don’t understand why you let him get away with it so long?” 

“Habit, and maybe because I didn’t to know.” James took a civilized sip of the wine in his hand. “You might have saved his life tonight.” 

Peter went to a cupboard and pulled a kettle out. “How so” he asked while filling the kettle from the tap. 

James watched Peter put the kettle on the hob and set out all the bits for brewing a cup of tea. “He swung on you and I was ready to murder him where he stood.”   
Peter looked up from the hob. “I know.” 

“But then you called Captain America a senile old coot and kicked his ass.” There was amusement in James’ voice and Peter felt himself relax. 

“You shouldn’t have to hurt one love to protect another. I mean, I was never his fan, but I don’t think you should have to choose between us.” 

“Peter, how can you be such a cinnamon roll?” 

“Hot and spicy?” 

“Crunchy on the outside and soft in the middle” James answered.

Peter felt a twinge in that new sore place and batted his eyes at James “but you like my soft center.”


	7. Meddle Not With Wizards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff so much fluff, then a shoe drops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not assassinating Thor's character here (spoiler alert) but in the opening sequence of Endgame he's fallen hard. Fortunately Thor doesn't make an appearance in this fic. So, yes someone might have had an unflattering opinion once but everybody recovers.

James turned at East 47th and stopped dead in his tracks. Peter’s directions said look for the mural, but James had not been expecting this. Under the freshly scrubbed neon declaring Shawarma Palace was a picture of the Avengers ranged around a table like the Last Super with Tony Stark in the place of Jesus. Despite being in hibernation at the time James had had heard the story. That Peter wanted to have lunch here, gave James something to think about, several somethings. After a moment and a few uncharitable comments from passersby about tourists, James headed for the door. Peter would say what was on his mind and James knew better than to try and interpret or anticipate Peter’s thinking without actually hearing what he had to say first. 

Once inside the door James scanned the occupants. Peter’s manbun wasn’t unique in this crowd, but the soft glow on the skin of his neck registered with James before he saw the two boys sharing Peter’s table. Despite the tow-heads bulky muscles the boy couldn’t be more than sixteen. The possessive arm around the nerdy looking brunet’s shoulders suggested they were a couple, though how they had landed in Peter’s orbit was unclear. There were drinks on the table but no food, and since Peter literally could not pass up a meal without nausea or worse the situation appeared to be fluid. 

The blond clocked James’ approach nudging his partner whose jaw fell open in a silent ooh. Peter turned in his seat with a smile and wave. 

“James, this is Teddy Altman, and his boyfriend Billy Kaplan. Pepper introduced us at the gym this morning.”

“Guys this is my boyfriend, James.” Peter smiled mischievously “I can call you my boyfriend in public, right?” 

“The gym at Stark Tower?” 

“The 83rd floor” the brunet clarified. 

“Ah, that gym.” James feeling some of the tension ebb. “Have you guys eaten?” 

“Try and stop this one” Billy said, elbowing the blond. 

“We were just keeping Peter company” Teddy said softly. 

“Yes, we’ll be going now” Billy said. As the boys rose to their feet, Billy’s eyes came level with James’ chest. He gasped softly and turned red before grabbing Teddy’s hand and dragging his boyfriend almost bodily away. 

Peter turned in his seat to watch them leave, a new crease between his eyebrows. 

“That was interesting.” 

Peter turned back to James. “Teddy wants to train with you.”

“Why?” 

“Variety, Sam and Rhodey are kinda by the book when it comes to tactics, and he's is big enough to go toe to toe with them already. I mean he gets his ass handed back to him as often as not, but Pepper told Teddy that he should watch some of the archival video.” 

“Did you eat already?” 

“I ordered.” James raised an eyebrow and Peter flushed “there are only three things on the menu, beef, chicken, and lamb. I ordered two of each so we can divvy them up however you like.” 

“So, Teddy saw video of me training in the – “. Remembering they were in public James didn’t finish the question.

“You’re not jealous?” Peter asked hesitantly. 

“I have – feelings” he answered with wonder in his voice. Reaching across the table he clasped Peter’s hand. “I’m used to being angry, to being afraid” James continued. “but I am not sure what all of this is about. You love me. I know that, and it feels completely different than anybody that came before you.”

Peter’s eyes had slowly widened while James was speaking. “You big sap” he choked-out, as his eyes began to shine with tears. “Who knew you were such a girl?”

***

That question was still on Peter’s mind Monday morning. He had arrived at the flat yesterday with a duffle bag full of clothes to find James had cleared the remodeling rubbish from the postage stamp of a courtyard and was busy planting roses of all things. 

“What do you think” James asked?

Peter had been astonished. More to the point the tiny pink buds had filled him with warmth and a burning need to get James naked. So, without a word he took his lover by the hand and hustled him into the bedroom. 

Peter had been filling out patent applications for at least four hours when Friday announced herself. “Harley is requesting your assistance in laboratory two.” 

“Thank god.” Peter hit the archive button on his tablet. “Hi Friday, how are you?” 

“I am in excellent working order Peter. Thank you for asking.” 

“You’ve chased down all the worms Ross and his goons tried to install?” 

“Indeed, fortunately my predecessor’s experience with Ultron led Tony to develop new security protocols. Those remain exclusive Stark assets.” 

“Awesome.” Gathering his notes Peter asked: “what does Harley need?” 

“He needs a different kind of genius.” 

“So do I” Peter mumbled. “Friday, can you review my patent files against legal precedent and notate any discrepancies?” 

“Certainly Peter. Shall I tell Harley you are on your way?” 

“Yes please, how do I get to Lab two?” 

“Laboratory two is on sub-level three and can only be accessed from the private floors. I will overwatch and correct any deviations.”

“Thanks Friday.” 

From the look of the walls and buttresses, Sub-level three seemed to be below the island’s water table. Peter knew that some parts of the Tower’s design were not included in the official blueprints and this floor seemed to qualify. Mr. Stark built the Tower after defeating War Monger and that experience had been pivotal in the building’s design. There were unmarked doors the length of the corridor, one of which opened with a soft click as he approached. “Thanks, Friday. Is Harley inside?” 

“Indeed, and most eager to speak with you.” 

Peter hadn’t shut the door behind him before the teen was bounding his way with a wide smile. “I must be losing it. How many times did Mr. Stark say we needed your fibers to turn this project around, and I totally spaced it until I saw the doodle he left on a napkin.” 

“What project and which doodle?” The absent-minded genius was one of Mr. Stark’s carefully cultivated performances. In reality inventor was meticulous about transcribing any paper notes to his digital archive and destroying the originals. 

Harley looked more like the kid Peter remembered, wide eyed grin, excited breath and a bad case of bedhead. He held up a cocktail napkin with a few lines that resembled a spider web, the letter P and a scribble like a broken heart. 

The sudden knot in his throat took Peter by surprise. 

Harley paused his babble and took a deep breath. “Sorry. Let me bring you up to speed.” The teenager reversed direction as seamlessly as if riding his skateboard and headed toward a 3-D hologram floating above a work station. 

Peter puzzled through the representation. Mr. Stark’s holograms were a little difficult because he was constantly distracted by the electrical fields that generated symbols in a spectrum visible to unenhanced humans. “That’s an arc-reactor. What did you do?” 

“Nothing.” Harley said looking at the hologram, “and that’s the problem. Mr. Stark couldn’t get it to work on anything larger than the suits because the energy flow destabilizes the molecular structure of the power conduits.” 

“Gama radiation seems to have that effect on a lot of things” Peter offered. “Doesn’t the Tower run on an arc-reactor?”

“It does, but the Tower has a lot of energy efficiencies in its design, plus the energy consumption of a building is much more static. 

“Okay, but why now?” 

“Because Thor asked Mr. Stark to help his people, and now Thor is off-world and Tony’s . . .” the boy’s face flushed as he couldn’t say the last word. 

“You want to finish this for Mr. Stark” Peter understood. Memorializing the dead was a comfort to the survivors. James had suggested this to Peter just this morning. He couldn’t quite get his brain around the value of a memorial because the dead stayed dead, but if he could help Harley with this, Peter’s opinions didn’t matter. 

“New Asgard is way north, and fossil fuels don’t generate enough energy to power the tech they brought with them.” 

“Isn’t their tech based on the Tesseract?” 

“Not quite. I haven’t got the whole story yet. It seems they had something like but not the same. Unfortunately, the people that designed it have been dead for thousands of years and Asgard’s archives were destroyed with their world.” 

“I remember Mr. Stark saying Asgard was only a fraction of the original planet and that it was only their technology that kept the gravity and atmosphere stable.” 

“Can you imagine” Harley asked. “Having an energy source so stable it not only outlived the builders, but their children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren?” 

“Aren’t you exaggerating?” 

“I’m really not, Thor said even his father didn’t know who built it, and Odin was at least a thousand years old.” 

“You met Thor?”

“So have you” Harley challenged. 

“Not to talk to.” 

“What?” 

Shit. “I mean yeah we were introduced but I never got to have a conversation with him.” Some day Harley might need to know Spiderman’s real identity but not today.

“Okay, you weren’t missing much, its mostly about beer, boobs, and smiting. Pepper finally told Mr. Stark she didn’t want Thor around impressionable young minds.” 

Harley turned back to the hologram “anyway Mr. Stark said that fiber you invented had conductive properties. I know he tried to reverse engineer it, but the experiment destroyed Lab one.” 

“It’s not flammable” Peter said defensively. 

“but it is self-replicating” Harley crowed. The boy seemed to have recovered his enthusiasm. 

“Oh my god!” Peter said, “Dum E and U?”

“Trapped like flies in Amber.”

“How do you know that?” 

“Friday, still monitors their telemetry. Anyyyyyy way, do you think you can help?” 

“I don’t know. It is conductive, but I never tested it with anything stronger than a 9-volt battery.”

“What do you need to produce test samples?” 

An arc of blue-white electricity sprang between the florescent lamp overhead and the concrete floor, making both of them jump. Instead of dissipating like a normal electrical charge, it started to grow. Harley was already dancing backwards when the emergency lights started to flash. 

Peter dodged around a lab bench toward the exit. Harley had the door open and turned toward Peter when the world went gold and swirly. He barely registered the tracery of runes in the golden light when the world exploded in white powder and cutting cold.


	8. Infinite Nature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What are the Infinity Stones and why does it matter? Peter is a lab-rat. James Barns holds it together, just barely.

James woke up rested and content and his first thought was they need to go on a picnic, they hadn’t been to the park in ages. 

Monday morning had been weird. Contrary to their expectations Hydra had not been revitalized by the return of their operatives and agents. In fact, anonymous tips had been steadily coming in regarding where Hydra operations were entrenched. Another important clue in unraveling Hydra’s network was which influential people had gone off-grid rather than reestablishing themselves in previous roles.

Steve Rogers was one of the invisible. James couldn’t quite believe his friend had been Hydra but the man had vanished like a spirit. James kept his hands off that question. When Carter had brought it up, James asked Mr. Cole to look into Roger’s whereabouts. He liked Carter’s work too much to put her in a position that might be compromising through no fault of her own. 

So, when Cole and Carter approached him with the video James was not pleased. Evidence was evidence however and this was damning. 

“What do you mean Captain America is an enemy agent” Director Fury asked? 

“We haven’t been able to find any record of him in the U.S. or Europe between when the plane went down and the date his body was recovered from the ice” Cole said.

Carter expanded on that “he gave us a false story. Peggy Carter married Daniel Sousa in 1947.” Carter took a deep breath. “I knew uncle Daniel into my teens, he was a brave and resourceful man, but he wasn’t Steve Rogers.” 

“I’m listening” Fury growled. On behalf of his former comrades James felt a moment of redemption. He admired some of this man’s qualities, but watching the foundation of lies crumble embodied a keen level of justice. 

Cole continued “Stark Industries recovered this security video from their destroyed lab and forwarded it to us.” Cole plugged the data stick into a video monitor. The view of cloudy skies over a tree clothed horizon was uneventful until a lightning strike hit something invisible. For a moment the tracery of scattered charges was blinding. When the light faded to normal, a dark shape was rising above the tree line and shortly disappeared off frame. “We are hypothesizing a cloaking technology, but the configuration of the ship isn’t like anything in our records.” 

“The time stamp on the video puts it three days before Thanos’ last incursion into earth space” Carter said. “It wouldn’t be impossible for Rogers to lay low during the battle and its aftermath.” 

“Off-world” Fury vented. “How do we know the man that passed on the shield and title of Captain America was Steve Rogers at all?” 

“Director Fury!” Maria Hill’s voice cut across James’ nerves like the snap of a violin string. “We have a reported incursion at Stark Tower.”

***

“Peter, we need to talk.” 

Levering himself up on extended arms Peter noted he had landed face first in a snowdrift. “Really! You can’t send a text message, Dr. Strange?” 

“That would imply you could decline.” 

Gaining his feet Peter tracked the voice to where the Sorcerer Supreme hovered above the rapidly drifting snow. Arms upraised, and one ankle crossed over the opposite knee, very like the tarot card that always came up for Peter. To add insult to injury the Doctor’s red cape hung completely still in the wind that was stinging Peter’s face and arms.  
In a T-shirt and jeans, he was knee deep in snow, already soaking his trainers. He had only just wrapped his arms around his chest to still the shivering when a soft warm weight enveloped his body. Looking down Peter saw a full-length mink coat. 

“Sorry about that” Dr. Strange said.

“For scaring me to death, or for turning Stark Tower into a disaster area?” 

“There is nothing wrong with Stark Tower.” 

“You snatch someone bodily out of one of the most carefully guarded laboratories in the world, in front of witness, and you think that won’t be noticed?”

“Unnoticed . . . was never my intention. There are other powers and it wouldn’t do for them to think I wasn’t paying attention.” 

“So, you kidnap me as a warning shot?” 

“Peter you’re off topic.” 

“Topic, there’s a topic?” 

“I don’t do this sort of thing for show.” 

“Could have fooled me” Peter muttered. 

“What was that?” 

“Thor says you do this exactly for show.” 

“Odin’s son talks too much. Besides, that display was mostly for his adopted brother’s education.” 

“We need to talk?” Peter repeated. 

“Yes, good . . . back on topic. When we last met, you surprised me.” 

“Because?” Peter fumed, waiting for the Sorcerer to make his point.

“Because you are not who I expected.” The sorcerer’s brow furrowed. “I am of a mind to undo what I wrought but am not sure it will not do more harm than good.” 

Peter’s mind raced trying to comprehend Strange’s logic. “You want to send me back?” 

“Exactly, but back to where, or is it when?” 

“I was dusted – dead. You want to make me dead again?” Peter could hear the panic in his own voice. It wasn’t fair. He was just starting to recover. To get over Aunt May, he had James and James had him. It wasn’t fair. 

“You weren’t dead though” Strange said. “We thought so, the Eternals thought Thanos had killed you all, but look at you. You became a man, matured physically and mentally. That doesn’t happen outside of linear time.”

“I don’t understand.” 

“I know. Neither do I. I am so sorry Peter, but this is going to hurt.” 

***

The bunker was in chaos and James stood back to the wall, numb, waiting for some piece of information that would give him a path of action. There had been an accident in one of the labs, but Peter was in the library researching patents. The knot of dread tightened. Three minutes later it was an abduction, and hostage recovery protocols were being implemented, but Peter wasn’t a personality at Stark Industries, he was an orphan without any rich relatives. Why hadn’t Spiderman checked-in with Fury? Surely, he had made himself available to Pepper and her security team. Where was Peter? 

The little pink and yellow lights started flashing in front of James and he thought it was one of his headaches. He must be over excited, one deep breath, a second, and the lights were obscuring his vision. Not now, not now, he had to find Peter, and the vertigo swept over him. James felt himself hit the floor. He felt his eardrums pop, and then James was huddled on a thick shag carpet. 

“Are you okay Mr. Barns?” The light tenor had a nervous squeak. 

“Where?” 

“Stark Tower” James looked up at the two teenage boys he met last week. Only the blond was twice as big as James remembered and green. The little nerd was wearing tights, a cape, some sort of crown, and he was floating. 

“How?” James grated around the pounding in his head. 

“Telekinesis spell” Billy replied. 

Magic, it had to be god damn magic. “Wizard – where is my boyfriend?” 

“We don’t know. Are you okay? You don’t look very good.” 

“Migraine” James grunted. He was on his hands and knees and the floor still looked very far away.

“I can fix that” Billy offered. 

“So can 1200mg of ibuprofen.” The green giant didn’t look very jolly with that pinched look of concern on his face. “Teddy be a lad and find me some ibuprofen.” 

“Should I tell Ms. Potts that you got him?” 

Billy looked from the kneeling man to his giant boyfriend and back again. “I guess so” he looked like he expected a scolding and if James could think two thoughts one after the other, Billy might get one.

Teddy left through a doorway wide enough to accomadate his bulk.

“I swear Mr. Barns that spell never caused anybody pain before.”

“Billy, shut-up.” 

There was a soft hiss that shivered down James’ spine like fingernails on a chalkboard and a sliding panel opened in one wall. Pepper followed by Wanda and Rhodey entered the room. Wanda knelt beside James’ head “I hear you prefer the tried and tested, to a youngster’s boast”. 

“Wanda if you can get me on my feet faster than a little pink pill, I am all for it.” 

“Good” she replied. Holding a half-closed hand close enough to his face that he felt his own breath deflected back, her fingers began a wave like motion. James was used to seeing colors that normal people didn’t notice. The smoldering red light others reported, was shot through with veins of indigo and electric blue. What that meant he had no clue. The pain behind his eyes grew, shuddered to crescendo then vanished. 

The room shrank to normal proportions, and the high-pitched ringing in his ears settled to the dull buzz normally generated by electric current through the wires embedded in modern walls. “Oh my gawd” he croaked “thank you.” 

James got to his feet with none of the teetering vertigo hang-over of a normal migraine. Looking to Pepper “you wanted me here?” 

“I was going to send Sam for you” she answered. “Then a helpful youngster said he could get you here faster.” 

Wanda got to her feet. “Wiccan, is too new at the art to have recognized Barns is neurodivergent. He is also a bit too eager to prove his value.” 

“Yeah, yeah, raw trainee syndrome” James grumbled. “I am here, now. What the hell is happening?” 

Everybody in the room stared at him like he had grown another head. Pepper straightened her back and looked James in the eye “Peter was abducted from one of the labs”. 

“How – never mind” James growled. “Why?” 

“How, is by magic, and that narrows the field of suspects considerably” Wanda answered. 

“How narrow” Pepper asked? 

“On Earth, a few hundred” Wanda replied. 

“That doesn’t help unless we know why.” 

Wanda flipped her hair back. “I have a theory.” 

***

Then Peter wasn’t standing in the snow. There was no wind, no ice, no horizon to be seen, but cold bit into him like a million needles. Energy equally unseen crackled menacingly and Peter knew he could be so unmade in this place as to have never been, never existed, unremembered and unmourned, but he wasn’t alone. It was a thousand years of agony before he sensed the consciousness riffling through his mind like someone thumbing the pages of a book. Stopping at an image of James dressed in a white tux, his hair crowned in pink roses, pausing to examine the meaning before abandoning that page to search further. Peter froze at the image of his parents in their caskets. He hadn’t been able to remember their faces for years. Who forgets their parents? The loss vibrates through him undimmed by time. The memory of Uncle Ben’s stern lectures on being responsible. Uncle Ben’s shattered skull, brain matter dripping down the walls. Aunt May curled up in bed weeping herself into such exhaustion that her heart finally stops. His fault, for leaving her alone. James again, hacking off his hair with a knife and preparing for battle because James would not be parted from him, and Peter would not leave the Avengers to fight alone. His fault.

***

They had moved to one of the lounges on the Avenger’s floor. Asgard’s UN representative Tyre was the last to arrive. The dull hum of Manhattan traffic penetrating the windows and causing James to grind his teeth in frustration. They didn’t know Peter was missing and if they did why would they care. He was just a boy, one of countless millions, it would be weeks or months before Spiderman’s absence was noticed or commented on. 

Sam stood next to Pepper and Wanda, unslinging the Shield with a flourish he drove the edge into the hardwood floor in front of his feet and it hummed with that vibration like a bell. “Avengers, assemble!”

The murmur of conversation ceased and Pepper lifted her head to look at the roomful of heroes her husband had gathered together. “Peter Parker has been abducted by magic. Very few of us understand what magic even is, and fewer have any skills that can counter it. The Scarlet Witch is going to explain and then take a few questions. While we value everyone’s input, the purpose here is unified action. That means no one goes off on their own little quests.” Pepper stepped back, leaving Wanda in front of the assembly. 

“There are many types of magic, from simple misdirection to manipulating the energies of Creation. Whether the later is in fact the practice of science using laws of physics we don’t yet know is irrelevant.” 

James snorted. He wasn’t here for a university lecture. “The Infinity Stones are a type of magic” she continued “but they are not simply objects, nor are they a type of technology, but in truth, we don’t know what they are. I believe this is why Peter has been abducted.” 

“For most species, death is both inevitable and irrevocable. The Titan Thanos knew this better than most. For centuries he collected every fragment of Infinity lore there was. As you can imagine knowledge of the Infinity Stones is closely guarded, and in the genocide of the Infinity War we can see why.” Tyre grunted his disgust at the understatement, and Wanda acknowledged that with a nod, before continuing. “Some of you will have noticed that time did not stop for the victims of Thanos’ acquisition of the Infinity Stones. The returned have no lucid memories of that period but some have come back with new skills. This is particularly noticeable in the young.” 

That statement caused a murmur from the assembled heroes. “The question then becomes: if not here then where” She continued. 

“Secret identity aside, Spiderman’s participation in the Infinity War and the battle at Stark labs upstate is known. That Peter Parker is one of the returned is documented. The same case applies to many in this room” Wanda’s eye fell on James. “It has been theorized the Infinity Stones were present at the creation of the universe and possibly its authors.” 

James had been holding on to his wits by the fingernails for most of the last hour. That Peter had been abducted as a kind of lab-rat to understand the Infinity Stones shook him to the core. He could feel the tension building in the back of his neck that signaled another migraine coming. The sudden warping of his vision was just one more sign he was about to become useless to everybody. 

The crackle of static and a blue-white flash in the center of the group sent people scrambling to the edges of the room. “It’s back” Harley shouted, and the spinning wheel of golden runes materializes out of thin air, Dr. Strange steps through carrying a body wrapped in some kind of fur robe. The towering figure sweeps the room with a distressed glance. “I didn’t know where else to take him.”

The pieces fall into place, and the limp form in the Doctor’s arms damns James for eternity. Wiccan leaps forward scooping the body out of Dr. Strange’s arms, then retreats toward the door. 

Wanda faces the Sorcerer square-on, mystic light gathering in upraised hands “What have you done?” She demands. 

“What had to be done.” He answers, relieved of the burden Strange steps back through the portal. “Take heart, it is not as we feared.” The disk of runes collapses on itself with an audible pop. 

“Cryptic much” Teddy mutters at James’ shoulder.

***

It was the same room where Peter had been treated for the gunshot and James didn’t know whether to be grateful or take a sledgehammer to the walls. 

Wanda and Billy had been working over Peter’s unconscious form for hours. They didn’t seem to mind James sitting in the corner but anyone else that darkened that door got the stink eye. 

His migraine symptoms had vanished with the Wizard’s magic portal. That was third time James had been in close proximity to magic, though only the last two had a bad effect.  
Was there a threshold tolerance, or as Wanda had suggested could a skilled practitioner modify the spell to leave James functional. Was there a relationship between Peter’s exposure to magic portals and his current lack of consciousness?

The muted and shifting pastels outlining Wanda and Billy faded to normal florescent lighting and the teenager sagged into an empty chair. 

Wanda reached down to take James by the hand. “Come, I don’t want this to be a secret or subject to interpretation.” 

They found Pepper, Sam, and Teddy, sitting around a table down the hall. Surprised, James asked “where is everybody?” 

“Sleeping” Sam answered. “They’re all in the building but its four in the morning.” 

“Oh” time had really got away from him, and the bone deep ache of his own body made a lot more sense. 

“I just brewed a pot” Teddy offered. The boy was once more just a big teenager, and James took of moment to wonder about his story. A teenage Hulk would have made the papers or twitter, or whatever format people where using now. 

Wanda waved off the coffee and sat down in a chair facing the group. “Billy is monitoring Peter until morning. Bodily he seems unharmed, but mentally and spiritually he’s taken a beating. That may manifest in physical symptoms over time, but at the moment I am more concerned with his mental stability.”

“Psychosis” Sam asked? 

Wanda grimaced, the dark circles under her eyes made her expression more witch like than usual. “I don’t even know how clinical terms would fit this. Peter is traumatized, and this is not the first time. These types of events can be cumulative, and manifest physiologically.” 

“Like PTSD, if you had sever childhood trauma it can magnify recent events out of all proportion.” 

He knew Sam was trying to be helpful, but learning Peter had ugly things in his past was making James feel more helpless and overwhelmed by the minute. “What do we watch for?” 

Wanda reach across the table, laying her hand over James’. “Yes” she said. “He needs to be watched, you have a strong bond trust your instincts.”

What little color Pepper has drains, “You’re saying he might be suicidal?” 

“It is not impossible. The primary trauma is very old, but a grown man has more imagination than a child.” 

***

He was warm again, heartbeat thudding in his ear and a slow grinding over the crown of his head. Bit by bit the sensations sorted themselves into waking. James is curled around him like a mama cat with a kitten. Peter’s head tucked under his chin. 

“Hey, are you in there?” 

“Maybe” Peter rubs an eyelid with the back of his hand. “Uhg, how long was I asleep?” He feels James shift position and then James’ arm slides under Peter’s neck rolling the younger man toward him. 

“You slept for a while.”

Opening his eyes, he sees the worried crease in James’ brow. Looks past that face and sees the room. “What did I do?” 

“Nothing wrong.” 

“Then why are we sleeping in the Tower?” 

“Because there was an incident in the Lab and everyone wants to be sure you are okay.” 

“What happened?” 

“How do you feel?” 

“Grumpy.” 

“I’ll take it” James said turning loose that shy delighted smile. 

“You better” he said angling his face toward his lover’s for a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. James Buchanan Barns has a hot new boyfriend, which is all I set out to do. I was expecting more out of Asgard but they didn't show up to the party.  
> If you are wondering about the odd little discontinuities in in the narrative they are deliberate, and I am delighted that you noticed.


End file.
